


A Minor Obsession

by snafutype



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Implied Adam/Henry, Implied Stalking, Knifeplay, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Death, Obsessive Behavior, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Other, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 02:45:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3961531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snafutype/pseuds/snafutype
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was in Henry's private space, somewhere Henry felt safe and comfortable, somewhere that he rarely let others inside, to preserve that solitude and distance he tried so hard to cherish. But Adam knew Henry didn't actually like distancing himself from others. He was still so soft, really. He craved human contact, attention, love. And Adam was more than willing to provide Henry with those things. He was the one who was going to be closest to Henry, who was going to get to see all his private moments, who would be there for Henry when he needed someone the most. After all, they had an eternity to spend together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Minor Obsession

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deathgurgle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathgurgle/gifts).



> This is my first contribution to AO3, as well as my first contribution to the Forever fandom. I wrote this in like less than an hour before I even finished watching the series, as a gift for my friend who dragged me into this show as well as this ship, so I apologize for any poor quality. I hope you enjoy!  
> Edit: This would take place within Episode 11, when Adam steals Henry's hunting knife to murder a victim, then returns it with blood still on it to his tool kit.

It was easy - far too easy, really. Henry thought he was so secure, in his little office in the basement where he thought no one noticed him, no one would find him. But Adam noticed. And Adam was very resourceful when it came to getting something he wanted.

Locks were hardly an obstacle. When one had been alive as long as Adam had, with as many skills as he had gathered over the years, locks were simply a minor inconvenience. A challenge, even. Henry's locks were laughable. His attachment to the past was his downfall - it took less than a second for Adam to pick the simple mechanism of the old turn-key lock to get into the drawer of his desk. At least the modern age doors to get into the building had provided more of a challenge, but Henry languished in a false sense of security if he thought his personal belongings were remotely secure behind their outdated locks.

Adam knew exactly where to find Henry's tools, and he drew them out of the desk drawer almost reverently. These were some of Henry's most valued possessions - Henry himself treated them with immaculate precision and care, always handling them as if they were an artist's paintbrushes rather than the tools of death that they really were. And Henry _was_ an artist - Adam had seen his work, the precise incisions, the delicate handling, the almost loving care he used as he gracefully opened up a body to uncover its secret beauty. But it was so disappointing how he limited himself. His artistic ability could be applied in much better ways, with much more gratification. Taking a life was a delicious experience, and Adam knew Henry would be so wonderful at it, if only he gave it a chance.

Placing the well-worn leather bundle on the desk, Adam unrolled it to reveal Henry's tools, then paused to revel in the moment. He was in Henry's private space, somewhere Henry felt safe and comfortable, somewhere that he rarely let others inside, to preserve that solitude and distance he tried so hard to cherish. But Adam knew Henry didn't actually like distancing himself from others. He was still so soft, really. He craved human contact, attention,  _love_. And Adam was more than willing to provide Henry with those things. He was the one who was going to be closest to Henry, who was going to get to see all his private moments, who would be there for Henry when he needed someone the most. After all, they had an eternity to spend together.

Adam ran his gloved fingers over the tools, admiring, until he reached the large hunting knife. _How unconventional, Henry._ It was almost ostentatious of him to have such a weapon and use it in medical procedures, but then again, Adam had a soft spot for the way Henry had such a taste for extravagance and a flair for the theatrical. Of course, the knife was practical as well, and it would be perfect for what Adam had planned.

Sinking into Henry's chair, Adam took a moment to drink in his soundings. The room even _smelled_ like Henry, and Adam wished he could imprint that scent permanently into his memory. Of course, he had plenty of time to do so. Preferably with Henry present, as well. Just the thought of that was enough to get Adam stirring, and he let out a soft, shaky breath as he leaned back into the chair, still holding the hunting knife. It would take patience, however, to ensure he earned Henry's trust, so this would have to do for now.

Lifting his free hand to his mouth, Adam tugged one of his gloves off with his teeth, before letting his hand drop to the front his pants. Who knew how many times Henry sat in this chair, puzzling over a case, running his fingers through his hair as he worked that impressive mind of his. Adam remembered running his own fingers through that hair, and he suppressed a soft groan at the memory. Henry had needed him so badly that time, and while it had been an unfortunate first meeting, Adam was sure Henry would thank him some day for what he did.

Glancing at the knife in his hand, Adam slipped his hand into his trousers, remembering what it had been like to slit Henry's throat. He had killed many, many people in the past, but it had been so very different with Henry. His last dying gasp had been music to his ears, and Adam's only regret was that they had had so little time together, to explore, to experiment. But it hadn't been the time or the place for that, and Lord knew there would be plenty more time for that sort of thing.

Adam thought of the many different ways he hoped to see Henry soon, and his hand quickened. He wanted to explore every side of Henry: how he ate, how he slept, how he died... The many possibilities sent shivers through Adam. He was so close, so close to getting Henry right where he wanted him, to earning his trust and ensuring they would be together forever. They could live together, kill together, die together, and they would always have each other. Henry was meant to be his, and after all this time alone, Adam would finally have someone he could always return to.

Turning his head to press his face into the fabric of the chair, Adam inhaled Henry's scent and let out a low groan. This was Henry's private sanctum, and now Adam was here, and it was yet another thing the two of them could share. Just like their secret. On an impulse, Adam pressed the back of the knife against his own throat, choking back a gasp. This was what Henry had felt the first time they meet, a cool blade across his neck, a slice, then nothing. Adam's pace quickened, the back of the blade digging into his throat, his mind lost in a foggy haze of want, a mantra of Henry, Henry, _Henry_...

He came with a shudder and a gasp of a name on his lips, slumping back against the chair and letting the knife dangle from his fingertips. The tingle of afterglow was only heightened by the thought that Henry would be sitting in this chair tomorrow, with no knowledge of what had transpired. Adam would leave no trace of his presence, and Henry would have no inkling that he had been here until Adam wanted him to find out. A slight smile curved Adam's lips, and he gazed around at Henry's things, the life he had worked so hard to maintain.

Soon. Everything would play out just the way Adam wanted it to, and soon it would be just the two of them, together, forever.


End file.
